


the mind heals

by Fandom_trash



Series: everything heals [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A little, Canon-Typical Violence, Gaslighting, Gen, Intimidation, Moral Ambiguity, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Assault, Slight Canon Divergence, Victim Blaming, and I love the wives so much, negan is not a nice guy, some things could be seen as sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-17 09:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15458355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_trash/pseuds/Fandom_trash
Summary: Breaking into the sanctuary might not have been Carl's best plan. He's man enough to admit that.





	the mind heals

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I'm back! Let's ignore the fact it's been over a year shall we? And the fact Carl is... elsewhere on the show now. P.S. please mind the tags y'all. This one's more intense than the others. Check out the end for better warnings. Also, this one came out kinda weird I’m gonna be honest. I just felt like this series had been too happy and that’s not true of the series really, especially with Negan around.

So... breaking into the Sanctuary might not have been Carl's best idea. He's man enough to admit that.

In the truck on the way there, he'd been filled with what he felt was a righteous fury. He was going to kill Negan, not just for Abraham and Glenn, but for himself and all the others under the madman's thumb. He didn't care if he was also going to die in the process.

Thinking that made him wonder what Eric would say about that. Eric was convinced Carl had PTSD. Carl was convinced that if he kept saying the right things Eric would stop coming around and making him think of  _gripping hands, clammy skin, heat pressed against his back_. He wouldn't call himself suicidal, but he also couldn't say he wanted to continue living with the horrible thoughts swarming around his head and half of his face mangled beyond repair. 

So yeah, he didn’t care if he died. Gunning down those two men, watching blood spurt from the holes he left in them, seeing the fear grow in the men’s eyes, he felt good. Powerful.  _In control_. He lived for that feeling and seeing Negan’s people kneel to him... it was intoxicating. Walking into this room full of beautiful, dejected women and realizing what their purpose is was less so. 

“...you’re gonna want to look at their titties. It’s cool.  _I_ don’t mind.  _They_ don’t mind...” Negan droned on, one hand on Carl’s shoulder. Carl had the distinct feeling that if he did want to look they wouldn’t say it, but they would definitely mind. Negan pressed a beer he wouldn’t be drinking into his hands and whisked _his wife_  away for a private conversation. The tall, dark-skinned woman that had been comforting the crying girl earlier sidled up beside and gently slid the beer out of his lax hands.

”Hello sweetheart.” She cooed softly, gently reaching up to adjust his hat. 

“Hello.” He whispered back, not sure why they were speaking softly but suspecting it had something to do with Negan being so near. Her hand brushed against the bandage covering his face and he didn’t flinch. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t, maybe it was because her gentle voice reminded him of his mom and Michonne. 

“I’m Frankie.” She said, finally letting her hand drop. “What’s your name?”

“Carl.”

“What are you doing up here, darling?” Frankie asked with an odd look. The question drew the attention of the women on the couch. All of them shared that same look.

”I’m not sure.” He responded honestly and nervously glanced at Negan as he moved away from his wife. He didn’t want to seem rude towards Frankie, but now Negan’s attention was drawn from her back to the crying girl and Carl was a little worried for her. Both of the girls on either side of her scattered and one of them joined him and Frankie by the door. 

“Tanya.” The new girl said, turning her back to the two on the couch and squeezing his shoulder. She let her hand linger and it was eons more welcome than Negan’s had been. 

“I’m Carl.” He said and she smiled like he had done something wonderful. “What’s wrong with her?”

”That’s Amber.” Frankie answered in a whisper. 

“She cheated on Negan with her ex-husband and he just found out. Wives aren’t allowed to cheat.” Tanya supplied, equally quietly. Carl blinked a little in surprise.

”I thought that other woman was his wife.” He said, probably too loud. Tanya shushed him softly and Frankie gave him another strange look. 

“We’re all his wives, hun.” She said, like she was calming a spooked horse. Carl blinked again and then Negan was up and away from the crying girl, back to the woman he was talking to before. They talked for a minute, the woman seeming angry, and then he kissed her hard. Carl looked away quickly, feeling uncomfortable and awkward. Tanya slipped away and went back to the coach. She stole the beer from Frankie’s hand on the way and opened it as she sat. Frankie continued to look at Carl strangely before she opened her mouth to speak and was interrupted by the appearance of Daryl and another man with a huge scar on his face. Carl winced in sympathy. Negan held up one finger obnoxiously to the men as he continued to kiss his wife. 

“Carl, will you grab that tray for me?” Negan asked as he finally stopped eating the lady’s face. Carl bristled inside but reached out to take the tray from Daryl regardless. He didn’t need to make things harder for his friend. Daryl looks outraged by his presence. 

“Why do you got him here?” He asked gruffly. 

“Whoa! What we talk about when you’re not here is none of your business.” Negan declared smugly, placing a hand on Carl’s lower back. All the wives cringed and Frankie’s hand twitched like she wants to grab onto something. Carl realized very suddenly why these women are being so gentle with him. They weren't just kind people comforting a child. They were women who are making an attempt to welcome a seemingly confused newcomer. They thought he was going to be one of them. Carl knew Negan was saying something to Daryl and the man with him but all he could hear was white noise. All he could feel was Negan’s hand on his back and his fingers slowly going numb. That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? Why would Negan want a damaged teenage boy as a lover?  _The same reason that man on the road wanted to fuck you_ , a cruel voice in his head mocked. Suddenly the hand on his back was pressing, guiding him from the room. A hand grabbed his roughly and Carl could barely even feel it. He doesn’t know if he flinched or not. Probably.

“Wait!” Frankie’s voice cut through the buzzing in his head, sounding panicked. She took a breath and continued more playfully. “Let me at least say goodbye to the kid.” 

She pulled him into a soft hug. It reminded him of one of Michonne’s. Until she turned her mouth to his ear and whispered frantically. 

“If he’s recruiting you to be a wife, think long and hard about whether whatever’s he’s using against you is worth it. And if it is there’s no shame in that.” And then she pulled away and gave him a playful smile, tipping his hat a little. Negan put his hand back on his back and led him out of the room. Carl glanced back at the women and what he saw made it hard to breathe. Frankie was staring at him with terribly heartbroken look on her face. Tanya had finished her beer and her and one of the other wives were pouring something harder, resolutely not looking at him. And the woman Negan has kissed earlier had her nose scrunched up lightly glaring daggers at the back of Negan’s head. Carl turned back around and tried to take a deep breath. Then Negan led him into his bedroom and his breath was gone again. 

“Are all of those women actually your wives?” Carl heard himself asking, voice surprisingly steady. 

“Yeah. Always wanted to screw a whole bunch of different women. I mean, why settle for just one? Why follow the same old rules? Why not make life better?” That explanation helps a little. Not that Carl understood why he would want to screw around and be cruel to such seemingly nice women, but why would a man with some many beautiful wives want to have sex with him?

”Speaking of, sit. I wanna get to know you better.” That transition made Carl’s stomach turn. 

“Why?” Carl tried to stall. Negan smirked as they sat. 

“Work it out. You’re smart.” Carl felt his fingers going numb again but this time it travelled all the way up his arms.

”Yeah, I know why.” Carl responded coldly. Negan chuckled and leaned back in his seat.

”Cocky, aren’t you?” Carl wondered if that was supposed to be flirty. He shuddered. “Ah I cant do it! It’s like talking to a birthday present! You gotta take that crap off. I wanna see what grandma got me.” 

“No.” Carl snapped back without thinking. The numbness was now throughout his whole body and his breath was coming so fast he could hardly think. 

“Two men! Two. Men. Punishment. You really wanna piss me off?” Negan yelled suddenly. Through the white noise in his brain he heard Frankie telling him there was no shame in whatever Negan was threatening him with being worth letting him fuck him. He thought of his community. Judith asleep in her crib, Michonne hugging him tight, his dad telling him he loved him. It’s worth it. 

Carl sat his hat down on the table and stood up. Negan seemed a little surprised, probably by how willing he seemed. The voice in his head would usually be calling him a whore right now, but he doesn’t think there’s enough oxygen getting to his brain to think anything with how quick and shallow his breathing was right now. He reached up to the top button on his flannel and slowly began to unbutton it. Negan’s eyes widened. Carl ignored it. He shucked his top layer quickly, willing his numb fingers to just allow this to be over quickly. Then he pulled off his shirt too, hating how cold he felt. Negan leaned forward in his seat and it was suddenly easy to just drop his shirt. He was floating away, away, away from his body. His numb fingers unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, kicking off his shoes along the way. Carl fiddled with th waistband of his boxers for a second before Negan stood up and moved in front of him. He reached out and grabbed his hands, stopping him from taking his underwear off. Carl prepared himself to be pulled against the man and violated all over again. Except his dad wasn’t coming to save him this time. The world was spinning and tilted and Carl wanted off this ride please. 

“What are you doing, kid?” Negan questioned. Then there was knock at the door.

“Come in!” Negan called and another man entered the room, looking nervous. He caught sight of Carl and his eyes bulged, horrified. Carl flushed in shame and wondered hysterically how he looked to this man. Pale and scared as hell in Negan’s bedroom in his underwear with the man in his space holding his hands. At least that’s how Carl hoped it looked. He hoped he didn’t look like a pathetic whore that was throwing himself at the Savior. _Oh God, he probably did_ _. He probably was._  

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir-” oh boy did he look sorry “but, uh, you left Lucille out by the truck.”

”Really? I never do that. I guess the kid was pretty distracting.” Negan grinned salaciously. Carl begged the man for help with his eyes- _eye_ , his mind corrected traitorously. The man’s eyes were determinedly not meeting his. 

“Fat Joseph, did you carry her all the way up here for me?” Negan asked.

”Y-Yes, sir.” Joseph stammered back.

”Were you gentle? Were you kind?” Negan continued. Joseph mumbled to himself.

”Did you treat her like a lady?”

”Mm, yes. Yes, sir.”

”Did you pet her little pussy like a lady?” Negan asked the uncomfortable man, but he was looking directly at Carl. He finally let go of one of his wrists to grab Carl’s waist roughly. He felt bile rise into his throat. Joseph was entirely pale, looking at the floor. Then Negan laughed loudly, letting go of Carl completely. 

“I’m just screwing around man. A baseball bat doesn’t have a pussy.” Joseh laughed nervously. “Get the hell out!”

The man scurried away, slamming the door behind him. Carl wished he could follow. Negan sighed and sat back down on the couch. 

“What do you like to do for fun?” Negan asked abruptly, startling the boy. “You like music? I want you to sing me a song.”

”What?” Carl couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Yeah. You mowed down two of men with a machine gun. I want something in return for that.”

”I thought that... that you wanted me to...” Carl wished he would shut his mouth. Does he want him to change his mind? Because he knew if he kept running his mouth that’s what would happen. 

“Thought what? Sing me a song.”

* * *

 

Negan hadn’t given Carl enough time to put his clothes back on before he drug him downstairs to watch him burn half a man’s face off. The look on Daryl’s face had made bile rise in his throat again. Frankie’s look had been stricken. Tanya’s was blank. Amber was too busy sobbing to notice. The worst look however was the unnamed woman Negan had spoke to earlier. She gave him a sad half-smile and mouthed  _you’ll get used to it, I promise_. 

Carl had known Negan was sick before he even laid eyes on the man, but he knew even better now. What kind of person can force people to sleep with him in exchange for keeping them or their families safe and call it marriage? Call it love? A rapist. That’s what kind of person can do that. Carl is half dressed and alone in a bedroom with a deluded rapist. 

“I want you to take the bandage off your face.” Negan said suddenly, not looking up from the papers he was reading. Carl was so mentally and physically tired from his long panic attack earlier he didn’t even bother trying to argue. Better the man ridicule him than stick his dick in him. He reached up and unwound the bandage around his head. Negan sat his papers in his lap and leaned forward excitedly. Finally the wrapping fell from his face and he let his head fall forward, exhausted and hating himself. 

“Get that hair out of your face and let me see.” Negan demanded. Carl sighed and pushed his bangs out of the way of his socket. 

“Christ! That is disgusting! Have you seen it? I mean, have you looked in the mirror? That is gross as hell. I wanna touch it.” Negan was already out of his seat and moving over to him. Carl really didn’t want him to touch him and tears welled up and spilled over before he could stop them. Negan noticed and sat back down on the coffee table behind him.  _Too close_ , Carl’s brain whispered.

”Shit, kid. Holy hell. I’m sorry it’s easy to forget you’re... just a kid.” Negan seemed to suddenly realize the boy’s state of dress because he looked very uncomfortable. “Get dressed kid, come on. Don’t need to sitting around naked, attracting all kinds of trouble.”

Carl flinched at that and stood up, grabbing his clothes where they’d been abandoned on the floor and gratefully pulling them on. Once he was properly dressed again, he sat back down and looked as defiantly as he was able to with how worn out he was at Negan. 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet? Or my dad or Daryl?” Carl asked, trying to sound like the badass Negan said he was.

”Daryl is gonna make a good soldier for me. You see, he thinks he's holding it together but you saw it. Your dad? He's already getting me great stuff. You, on the other hand Well, we shall see. It's more productive to break you. More fun, too.“ Negan gave him a grin full of innuendo and for the first time all day it just pissed Carl the hell off. 

“What do you think I should do? You know I can’t let you go. You’re a smart kid. Should I iron your face? Actually chop your arm? Let my men run a train on you? Tell me.”

”I think you should jump out the window to spare me the trouble of killing you.” He snapped, standing up.

”Finally, the kid that impressed the hell outta me is back.” Negan smoked and leaned back, like he’d been waiting for this. Maybe he had been.

“I think you’re not saying what you’re gonna do to me because you’re not gonna do anything.” Carl raged at him. He’d been scaring him all day with the idea of punishment and he hadn’t once touched him. He was done with the intimidation game. He was done with being scared. He thought of all the women in that room. Frankie with her soft voice and softer hands. Tanya with her emptiness. Amber and her broken heart. All the others he never got the chance to meet. They’d be so much better off if Negan just died. They could be happy if he just went away. 

“If you knew us, if you knew anything you would kill us, but you can’t.” He finished his rant and looked at Negan. His smile was gone and he was just looking at him blankly. 

“Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t.” Negan nodded slightly and then stood up and grabbed Carl suddenly. “Or maybe it’s because I know if I send you back to your little family broken and covered in my come, they’ll finally stop fucking with me.” Carl’s jaw dropped. He wouldn’t. He’d had so many chances and he hadn’t taken any of them. The numbness was threatening to start creeping into his fingers again. Without thinking he twisted some hair around his finger nervously. 

“P-please don’t... do that.” Carl didn’t care if he didn’t sound like a badass. He can’t always be a badass, especially when a panic attack is threatening to send him spiraling again.

”I don’t understand you.” Negan said after a beat. 

“I don’t understand _you_!” Carl cried in response. Negan ignored his distress and gave him a once over. 

“Who touched you? Not your dad, right?” Negan questioned, eyes squinted. 

“What?” What the hell was even happening?

”Guys, especially guys your age, aren’t afraid of being raped unless they’ve been given a reason to be. So who touched you?” Negan reiterated. Anger bubbled up in Carl again. 

“First of all, my dad never touched me. No one molested me. I was assaulted on the road by a _stranger_  before we found Alexandria. Second, you can go fuck yourself! I fucking knew you were just trying to scare me.” Negan looked vaguely surprised before his face turned unreadable. 

“Let’s go for a ride, kid. Pay Alexandria a little visit.” Carl followed a little fearfully behind Negan, but his defiance and rage was still burning in his veins. It was only multiplied by his embarrassment and shame from how terrified he’d felt all day. They stepped into the hallway and bumped into Amber. She was obviously drunk and sad, looking a little confused about their sudden appearance, as if she’d forgotten about doors entirely. Her glazed eyes focused clearly on Carl for the first time today. 

“Are you okay?” She slurred at him. He gave her a strained smile. She smiled back and then burst into tears.

”Are you okay?” Carl asked her dumbly. She gave him a tearstained smile. They nodded at each other once before Negan led him away from her roughly.

And the idea that Carl could ever be the same after this fled his mind. He knew he should be more traumatized as opposed to less, but something in him just felt better. He looked up at Negan and remembered his own righteous fury. In the truck earlier, telling Negan to jump out a window and fuck himself, but most importantly his fury at being manipulated by Negan. He’d felt so powerful and in control. But that feeling was nothing compared to the soft affection he got from Frankie or the gentle camaraderie from Tanya or the bittersweet smile from Amber. 

And that meant something. He couldn’t wait to find out what it was. 

**Author's Note:**

> TW for: brief description of past sexual assault, internalized victim blaming, panic attack, fear of sexual assault (maybe actual assault based on how you look at it), slight gaslighting, sexual intimidation, derogatory language (directed at self), and mentions of sexual coercion (Negan and the wives). Let me know if I missed anything.


End file.
